


What Lurks in the Night

by alien_lord



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Magic, Not a pretty fic, Rape, Sexual Assault, Vaginal Sex, cumming, forced impregnation, ginger fetish, predator - Freeform, semi dual, this is probably triggering so please don't read if sexual assault/rape is a trigger, tw assault, tw rape, tw underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2018-12-21 05:34:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11937396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alien_lord/pseuds/alien_lord
Summary: Set during the Order of the Phoenix, during the break in at the ministry of magic. Hermione gets separated from the others, and stumbles into a room on her own. Unbeknownst to her, Dolohov lies in wait, hoping to catch one of them for his own nefarious gain.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is pretty upsetting, so please, don't read if you have any kind of problem with sexual assault/rape. It's not a nice fic.

_What is a fear of living? It's being pre-eminently afraid of dying. It is not doing what you came here to do, out of timidity and spinelessness. The antidote is to take full responsibility for yourself - for the time you take up and the space you occupy. If you don't know what you're here to do, then just do some good. - Maya Angelou_

Hermione had become separated from the others; it was easy to do in the twisting Ministry of Magic, with its many doors and winding rooms. As the brightest witch of her age, she wasn’t nervous about being separated, she knew she’d be able to find her way back, she was just scared of the situation. There were Death Eaters lurking around, and they wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. Listening for the slightest sound, she moved slowly, careful not to bump into anything that might alert someone that she was there. 

The dark was thick, feeling like someone had dropped a sheet over her, and she had to fumble her way through. Hermione’s wand was in her hand, but she was too nervous to use it for light, in case someone was already in the dark. Her heart palpitated in her chest, and she could feel her pulse in her ears. 

Reaching her hands out in front of her, she felt the edge of a shelf, and so she moved to go around it, when she accidentally knocked someone off of it. There was a crash, and the sound of whatever it was rolling away through the dark. Hermione froze. The palpitations in her ears so loud she thought that her ear drums might burst.

Suddenly, she became aware that she wasn’t alone. She wasn’t sure how she knew it, but she knew that there was someone else there. Her breath was thick, almost panting, as she pressed her back against the shelf, not sure what way to move. Seconds seemed to drag by, stuck in her terrified standstill. 

Finally, after a few seconds of nothing happening, Hermione whispered “Lumos” and lit up the end of her wand, soft glow lighting up the stiff darkness surrounding her. For a second, her heart beat stilled, she thought it was okay. Turning behind her to look, her wand lit up a form behind her and she gasped. 

“Boo-“ he sneered as he leaned forward, and as Hermione opened her mouth to curse him, he flicked his wand and cursed her first. “Stupify-“.   
There was nothing for her to do, and as the curse hit her in the chest, she fell backwards, cracking her back off of the shelf as she fell. He was on top of her in seconds. Sitting over top of her, straddling her, he used his wand to light up the room. Hermione was unconscious on the floor, and as he kneeled over her, he was struck by her beauty. Her hair was tightly curled, and as she laid on the floor, Dolohov took one tiny strand and wrapped it around his finger, before letting it spring loose. 

The years in Azkaban hadn’t been kind on Dolohov. Once, he’d been considered a handsome man. He’d been rugged, with a strong jaw, with curly, dark hair, and piercing eyes. His tan complexion and dark hair worked well with his bad boy attitude. However, after years locked away, he’d aged badly. Dark circles under his eyes, and deep wrinkles cracked his once smooth complexion, and most of his dark hair had faded to grey. His eyes were still piercing, but they hid a horror that didn’t go away, something that left him looking gaunt, and hopeless. 

He leaned over, smelling her hair, marvelling at the floral scent. He hadn’t been out of Azkaban very long, and his primal desires were over whelming. The very smell of something floral, that didn’t smell like death, or filth, was intoxicating. 

He yanked her robes up easily, she was thin, and he was still wiry, inspecting her smooth, marble, skin, and running a hand over the soft flesh. His calloused hand scratched her skin, but he didn’t care. 

He didn’t care for her in any way, this was about power. He’d had his power taken from him for so long while he was in Azkaban, he needed to get it back. Taking advantage of this young witch was a good place to start. 

Yanking at her underwear, he tore them off and tossed them aside. He spit on his hands and rubbed them together before yanking up the front of his robe and rubbing them over his newly erect length. 

Shoving her legs apart, and admiring her ginger bush briefly, before he thrust into her. Her ginger bush brought back the memory of Molly Weasley. He’d been enamoured with her, and she’d rejected him. It was part of the reason he’d jumped at the change to murder her brothers, Gideon and Fabian Prewett. He’d taken his time with that murder, it had been horrific. 

Dolohov grunted in enjoyment, she was so tight, and he loved the feeling of being inside someone without their consent. His hands were beside her head as he thrust his hips forward, grunting lowly as he enjoyed the sensation. 

It was over in a matter of minutes, Dolohov spent himself inside her, and stood up, yanking his robe back down. Running a hand over his forehead, he wiped away a bead of sweat before surveying the scene of his crime. The curse would be over soon, and she’d wake up, and he didn’t want to be here then. He’d had his fun, and it was time to move on. 

He headed out of the room, leaving her on the floor, robe pulled up around her waist, panties tossed aside, wand rolled across the room. Momentarily he thought about going back and snapping her wand, but he figured she’d be emotionally pained enough when she woke up anyway, there was no point. He left her there, laying on the floor, cum dripping down her thighs, and headed off, not expecting to ever meet her again.


	2. Dolohov's Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dolohov knows what he wants, and he plans to get it.

It had been Ron that found Hermione on the floor, discarded by Dolohov. He’d broken into a sob, running to her. She was bruised, her robe yanked up, her underwear flung across the room. He knew she’d been raped, and he could see the man’s residue clinging to her thighs. For a second, he thought she was dead, but as he got closer he could see her chest lightly rising and falling. 

He pulled her into his arms, and tugged her robe down to cover herself, and just held her. Gently rocking her. He didn’t call out for Harry, he didn’t want anyone to see her like this. Scooping her up, he carried her in his arms, gently. He figured maybe he could get her cleaned up and she wouldn’t even know what happened. Ron decided that would be best. If he cleaned her up, she wouldn’t know the rape had happened, and she’d be okay and think it had just been a fight. 

Setting her back down gently, he cast, “Scourgify”, to clean the other man’s cum off her legs and vagina. Then he quickly looked around for her underwear, and slid them back on, only trailing his fingers over her bush for a quick second. Admittedly, he wished he’d been able to slide his dick into her, but he wasn’t going to. Not without asking first.   
Now that her panties were back on, and she was cleaned up, he lifted her back into his arms, and carried her out of the room gently. It was another minute or so before she woke up, and she looked up at him, dazed. “What happened?”

“You fought somebody- they knocked you out-“ He told her, and his throat tightened a bit from the lie. He felt if she didn’t know what happened, she wouldn’t be traumatized.   
Hermione shifted in his arms a bit, and noticed a dull throbbing in her pussy. She wondered why, but thought maybe it had to do with how she fell. She cuddled up against Ron’s chest and let him carry her away.   
~~~~~~~~~

Dolohov had headed back with the others after the fight. However, his mind was preoccupied with the little ginger he’d raped on the floor. He wanted to have her again. He wanted to use her and abuse her, and possibly impregnate her. Wouldn’t that be the dream?

He’d been sitting there, his position cocky, thinking about holding her down as she screamed. The next time he got his hands on her, he wasn’t going to be so goddamn gentle. He wanted to fuck her and watch her writhe underneath him. He couldn’t wait to have that ginger bush again.   
He knew it wouldn’t be that hard to get her alone again, after all, her team mates had let her wader so far on her own anyway. His erection strained against the front of his pants, and he shifted in his seat. 

“Do you have something on your mind?” Lucius Malfoy asked him suddenly, and Dolohov snapped back to reality at the table. The Death Eaters were supposed to be having a meeting, talking about the effects of the battle they’d just had. 

“No- no-“ Dolohov shrugged, “My apologies.”

Voldemort turned from the head of the table, Nagini hissing around his shoulders. “You forget, Dolohov, I am able to see what you’re thinking.” He cocked his head to the side. “Graphic yes, but deserved.”

He glanced around the table, “Dolohov had his way with one of Potter’s-“ he hissed the name out, “Friends. And he wants her again-“ he chuckled lowly. “You’d think that one of my Death Eaters would know better than to be enamoured with mudblood pussy-“ the other men around the table laughed, their eyes settling at Dolohov at the table.   
Dolohov flushed, his cheeks deepening to a beet red. “I’m not ‘enamoured’-“ he spit the word out. “I wanted to breed her-“ He glanced around and saw the faces were more approving now, everyone knew that mudblood’s could be used for sexual pleasure, just never romantic interest. 

Voldemort turned and looked at him. “Interesting. Would this be to produce you an heir? I know you’ve yet to have a son-“. He waited, his eyes unrelenting as he stared Dolohov down, waiting for the man to answer. 

Dolohov shook his head repeatedly, “Oh, no. Just for humiliation sake.” He knew that if he claimed the mudblood’s child as his heir, he’d be killed. He ran a hand through his curly hair, pushing a strand off his forehead. He was imaging her screams in his mind, and it was delicious. 

Voldemort smirked a little, “Then by all means, continue.” He looked around the table, “A smart man knows how to use sexual tactics as warfare. Nothing breaks down morale more than taking what’s yours-“ He stood, smoothing the front of his robe. “If you desire the mudblood whore, you are more than welcome to take her-“ he gestured to Dolohov. “Don’t lose sight of the mission however-“ and with that he was gone, out of the room, leaving the Death Eaters to mumble to each other. 

Dolohov’s dick twitched in the front of his pants. He was going to make that dirty mudblood skank wish she had never been born. He was going to tie her down and rape her until she was so broken she didn’t mind the feel of his dick anymore. He was going to turn her into his disgusting cock slut, and she wasn’t going to be able to do a single thing about it, other than call him master, and worship what he gave her.


End file.
